Untill We Meet Again
by tardis-blue-jay
Summary: One shots of all the ways Sherlock and John will find each other again. Mostly Crack fic but with some semi-serious ones. (Will take requests or ideas! Even challenges!)
1. Toast and Tea

**Hello readers! Welcome to 'Untill we meet again', a collection of one shots about how Sherlock and John could find one another again. This will be my first Sherlock fic. and I hope you like it. And please review! Reviews are virtual chocolate. And I like chocolate! I can't think of what else to say other than let it begin! (And muffins but that's not important right now :)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock he is the property of the BBC and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. (Which I don't understand because honestly do you think Sherlock would let himself be owned by anyone? ;)**

It had been three months since Sherlock died.

And Sherlock felt that an efficient amount of time had past and it was probably save now to do what he had contemplated the three months since his death. It was time to tell John that he was alive. But he couldn't just call him up on the phone and tell him, or just walk up to him on the street and tell him. No. He was still incognito. And he was bored. Completely and utterly bored. He needed a challenge. And he had given himself the perfect challenge. Find the perfect way to tell John. Find a way that would still give himself the satisfaction of suprising and impressing John. But at the same time not scare him too much that it would send him into shock or faint or something. But Sherlock couldn't think. His brain was not working properly. He needed to get somewhere quite so he could think. He needed somewhere familiar. So naturally he chose his favorite thinking place. 221b Backer street.

He waited for a time when he know John wouldn't be home. A time when Mrs. Hudson would be out. Then he slipped in his key and creeped quietly up the stairs. Once he was settled in and was careful not to leave any sign of his entering, he sat down at his favorite spot on the couch, laid down, closed his eyes, and thought. Thinking of the perfect way. The perfect way to inform his friend of his well-being. But he could not think. Each idea had a problem or a tiny flaw would make him cast out the idea completely.

Sherlock was hungry he hadn't eaten in a while and needed something to quench his hunger. He almost called out for Mrs. Hudson, but remembered the circumstances of his being here. He frowned. He would have to make his own food. The thought of it was displeasing but he went about the chore any way. He made himself some toast and tea and sat down at the table. Maybe if he relaxed his mind he would be able to think up a plan more easily. And it worked. Because he was Sherlock of course and Sherlock was completely clever. And his plans always worked. Well most of the time any way. And just as he was buttering his second piece of toast he heard keys jingling and the closing of a door in the hallway below. His eyes widened and he immediately cursed himself. He had been careless. John was home and he had been careless. The door to the kitchen was still a jar. His toast and tea were still sitting there. But most importantly Sherlock was still sitting there. He had to act fast. He flung his mug, with tea still in it, towards the sink but it fell short and the mug crashed to the floor. This was followed by more cursing. He shoved the rest of the toast in his mouth and ran to the window. He could hear John enter the apartment. And he got increasingly worried his plan would fail but those thoughts were immediately shoved aside. Because he was Sherlock of course and Sherlock was completely clever. And his plans always worked. Well most of the time...

* * *

John had had a long day. Working at the hospital was becoming increasingly boring, but today had been extremely dull. He wish he was coming home to Sherlock. Sherlock used to always have something exciting for them to do, some new adventure. But ever since Sherlock had...

Any way he was walking up the stairs to the flat when he heard a crash from above. "Mrs. Hudson?" he called. When there was no response he started to charge up the stairs.

He unlocked the door and stumbled into the flat. It appeared empty. And everything looked to be in its place. But he could sense something still in the room. He quietly pulled his gun out of the drawer he had kept it in and snuck his way over to the kitchen. He noticed the door slightly ajar and heard a slight movement from within. He pulled out his gun and held it out in front of him. He shoved the door open.

"Freeze!" he shouted as he entered the room. Only to find the most peculiar sight before him. There were crumbs all over the table and his good mug was now scattered all over the floor with a brown liquid drenched around it. But the most peculiar part of it all was the window. It was open and was carrying a guilty looking Sherlock inside. He had one leg out the window and the other half way over the window sill. He was frozen on the spot, with a 'deer in headlights' appearance. He also sported a wad of what appeared to be toast in his mouth. He slowly swallowed it as John stood there shocked.

"Sherlock?" he gasped.

"Oh, um hello John. I was just going to..." and then Sherlock fell out the window.

"SHERLOCK!" John yelled as ran over to the window. Only to find Sherlock lying on the fire-escape. "Oh, " he said rather awkwardly, "I forgot that we had one of those."

"So did I." Sherlock confessed.

"Well."

"Well."

"This is awkward"

"Yes John. Yes, it is indeed."


	2. A Whole Lot of Random

**AN: Sorry this is late I had a busy weekend. This was technically finished yesterday but It wasn't edited so I had to wait to today to edit and post the sorry. I wrote this pretty late last night so I'm sorry for the weirdness of this chapter. This has slight Wholock in it but not much. If you think I should do more of it tell me. And tell me if you have any ideas you want me to write about. Good? Good! **

John walked into their café.

He sat in their spot.

And he ordered their usually drinks.

Sherlock was gone but John still went through this usual routine when he was feeling lonely. It helped him feel closer to Sherlock even though he was gone. The owner gave him his drinks in silence and nodded his head in support. He missed Sherlock too. He was one of his favorite customers since Sherlock had got him out of that murder accusation.

John drank his tea in silence.

_Clang_.

He looked up suddenly as the mug opposite him was placed roughly on the table by none other than Sherlock Holmes. John's jaw dropped.

"Sh-sh-Sherlock?" He stuttered in amazement. "But your..."

"Dead?" Finished the dead-man.

"But, how?" John said his heart still beating quick.

"Oh, I don't know." He said off handedly. John suddenly felt a wave of emotion hit him, and not a happy one.

"What do you mean you don't know!?" He nearly screamed. "How could you possibly not know!? It's your life Sherlock!" But Sherlock was to busy uncharacteristically examining his nails as he said,

"Oh it was never my life really." He said glancing up at John on the last word. John sat there puzzled. _Had Sherlock come back from the dead several cards short of a full deck? _

"W-What do you..."

"Because you see you stuttering little foul," Sherlock sneered, his voice getting frighteningly high, "I'm not Sherlock I'm really..." (pulls off mask) "James Moriaty!" John sat there in shock.

"But that's... Impossible!"

"You had no trouble thinking Sherlock could still be alive, so why not little, old me?" Smiled Sherlock who was really Jim.

"You did this! You caused all this! You killed Sherlock!" John said rather upset. Jim rolled his eyes.

"Nooooooo, didn't you read that lovely autopsy? It was suicide." He said as if he was explaining it to a child. "Probably the loveliest piece of news I ever got. " He said off handedly. "You seem rather flustered by this, does someone have a crush?" He giggled childishly.

"I admit I'm upset but it's not because Mrs. Hudson ships Sherlock and I. It's because I'm secretly..." (Pulls off mask) "Irene Adler!" Jim's face dropped.

"Well it seems everyone and their nemesis is coming back to life these days." He mused.

"You're damn right! And I'm going to kill you for what you did to Sherlock! Because I love him even though John and Sherlock clearly deserve each other!" John who was really Irene screamed.

"Well!" Jim said in offence. "You won't be getting you revenge anytime soon. Because I'm not James Moriarty I'm really..." (Pulls of mask) "That random American who tried to kill everyone that one episode but didn't successed! And now I'm going to finally kill you Irene Adler!" Said Sherlock who was really James Moriarty who was really that American... guy. Irene rolled her eyes.

"That's really an unimpressive title."

"I know." The American sighed, eyes down cast.

"Your not going to kill me." Said John who was really Irene. "Because actually from a non-linear non-subjective viewpoint I'm actually..." (Pulls off Mask) "Greg Lestrade!" (**AN: Poor Whovians you thought wrong, maybe later) **"Now I'm going to take you in, random American criminal who I can't remember what your crime was!" Yelled John who was really Irene who was really Lestrade.

"Impossible!" Cried Sherlock who was really Moriarty who was really some random criminal American that no one can remember. "You can't arrest me because I'm really..." (Pulls off mask) "John... Watson" He said rather degraded.

They sat there several minutes in silence. John Watson who was really Irene Adler who was really Greg Lestrade and Sherlock who was really James Moriarty who was really that random American who tried to kill everyone that one episode but didn't successed who was really John Watson.

"So." said Lestrade.

"So." Responded John.

More Silence.

"Lestrade," Began John, "Do we have to keep LARPing?"

"But Live Action Role Play is so fun!" Lestrade said laughing. "And it helps me cope with... well... you know."

The owner of the pub walked up to them. "I know exactly what you mean Lestrade."

More silence.

"LARPing IS THE BEST!" yelled the owner. "Because I'm really..." (Pulls off mask) "Steven Moffet!"

The men stared at him and said simultaneously, "What's a Moffet?"

"What the crap!" Yelled the audience. "We came her for a quality story and you give us this!"

Suddenly a young girl, stood up on her stool, "Hold it people." She said calming the audience. She had short, curly, brown hair and was wearing jeans and a shirt that read 'Mad Man with a Box'. "I'm sorry this is late people. I was really busy this weekend and this is the quickest thing my sleep deprived mind could come up. Next week will be better, alright?" John, Lestrade, and Moffet stared at her.

"Who are you?" called a random stranger in the back.

"Well, random stranger in the back, I'm the writer. And I hope will all be getting to know each other a little more later but I'm tiered now so later. Good? Good? Now begone!"

* * *

Sherlock woke up at the start. He had it again. The Dream.

It was the third time this week alone and it was starting to freak him out. At least it was over. That girl and that Moffet thing always gave him the creeps. He sighed.

"Hello Sherlock." Sherlock turned to see... Them! The girl and the Moffet. Oh God help him!

The girl looked at, "Go see him."

Sherlock understood immediately. "But I can't see John, I..."

"No buts."

"Bu.."

"Dont you dare!" She interrupted. "Or I'll make you have the dream again and I'll be mean to you next chapter."

"Do you have anything to say?" Sherlock asked the Moffet.

"No I'm to busy thinking of a new way to not kill the new companion Clara." He said briskly. _Well that made no sense_ thought Sherlock.

"Don't turn this around." Sneered the Writer, "Now Go!"

"Alright!" Screamed Sherlock. "God, your worse than my mother!"

"We're worse than everybody's aunt!" Said the Moffet and the Writer.

"But that makes no sense! And you're dragging the Dam chapter out to long!"

"Fine!" said the Writer.

I'll stop here.

Here.

No, here. Okay I'm going!

The En...


	3. Kidnapped

**Hello Readers! I hope you liked that last chapter. Bit random, right? And if you liked the Doctor who bits check out my other story for Doctor who 'Traveling through the Universe and Other Big Adventures'. Sorry for those of you who didn't understand the Doctor who references. Do you think I should do more? I was thinking of adding a chapter with more of a crossover. Tell me what you think. Speaking of telling me things. I don't want to beg or bother you for reviews but they really don't take long and they honestly help in the writing process, so feel free to review! I have several ideas for other chapters but if you have any ideas feel free to share! And now enjoy!**

The back of Johns head throbbed. And it hurt like no tomorrow. He groaned as he came into conciousness. As he opened his eyes his vision swam before him. He slowly became aware that he was sitting up, and was tied down to a chair. He tried to move his arms and legs but they were firmly tied in place. He raised his head, one of the only thing he could move, and looked around.

As his vision started to readjust, he deduced that he was in some sort of warehouse. Kind of similar to the one that he had first met Minecroft in. But yet, no. Not like that at all.

The only light was on him, and some was leaking through open doors around the edge of the building.

"Hello, John." Said a mysterious voice. John looked up to see a strange, blond man in a suit.

"Well , Hi." Said John.

"Do you know why your here John?" John opened his mouth to answer but was interrupted with, "No of course you don't I haven't told you yet." John stared at the man. "Well aren't you going to ask me why I brought you here?"

"Okaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay." said John. "Why did you bring me here?"

"I'm not going to tell you!" Said the man with a psychotic grin. "Well! Maybe, see I brought you here cause I want something. I want it real bad. See I heard about a fun little game and I want to play!" The man rambled on. "Aren't you going to ask me what I want? What it has to do with you? Or what this exciting little game is?"

"Well..."

"I want Sherlock." The man said leaving the sentence hang in the air. "I want to play the game that all the villains these days are playing." He said as he started walking up to John. "But I want to play it better. See. I want to win." The man was now dangerously close to John. "Where is he?"

John stared confused. "Where's who?"

"Sherlock of course!" The man responded immediately. "Where are you hiding him?"

For a minute John was shocked. Could. Could Sherlock really...? No. Sherlock was gone. He had seen him fall. The man was obviously psychotic he didn't know what he was saying. The man maybe didn't know.

"Sherlock's dead." John said, no matter how much it hurt. This mad man had to know. He had to let John go.

John expected the man to be upset. Possible go on a psychotic rampage for being 'lied to'. But instead the man just laughed. At first it was a normal laugh, which then became psychotic, which then lead to a fit of coughing. John's capture raised his hand to wipe the tears from his eyes.

"You really don't know do you? You really think the consulting detective is gone, don't you?"

This made John angry. Of course Sherlock was gone. He saw him! He saw him fall. And he told the man just that, which only lead to more laughter. Neither of the men: the one tied up or his psychotic captor heard what came next. _Thud_. And suddenly one of the psychotic mans guards was on the floor. But neither of them noticed of course, being to caught up in their own problems.

"Several days ago my men heard rumours that Sherlock was in Moscow."

"That's impossible." Said John. _Thud_. Why would Sherlock even go to Moscow in the first place?

"And before in Los Angeles, Sydney, Berlin, and Paris."

"Just rumours" John began.

"And recently." Continued the man. "We have found physical evidence of his travels, witnesses, small traces of bank accounts, and anonymous tips." Then there were sounds of a silent struggle and another, _Thud_. But still the men didn't hear to wrapped up in their conversation to notice. "And even if you don't know where he is you can still bring him to us. He'll come for you, his blogger. For, the weakness of all hero's is their friends is it not?" John remembered and could almost hear Sherlock telling him he 'wasn't a hero, John'. The man continued, "He'll fall into my trap, then the game will begin." Suddenly the lights dimmed. The two men looked around in surprise. They heard a coat flapping and the sound of someone jumping down onto the floor. The watched as a shadow moved around in the low light.

"I thought the game would last longer, Simon." whispered a mysteriously familiar voice. Then the man's, Simon's, eyes widened in surprise. The shadow descended on Simon for a moment and Simon collapsed. John sat there worried the stranger would come after him to. He struggled with his bonds, while trying to figure out where he knew the voice from. The shadow swam over behind John. John stiffened, fearing the worst. But the ropes tieing him fell, and John began to remember. He could place the voice now. He felt the not so strange stranger come close to his ear and whisper,

"Hello, John."

And John whispered back. "Sherlock?"


	4. John is not Amused

**Hey guys! I'm loving the response I'm getting you guys are great! But reviews would just make me smile and I love smiling so why not take a few minutes to review. Thanks! And now to the one shot!**

Sherlock did not have time. He had 19 hours that was it. He had wanted a big introduction. Something to surprise John when they saw each other again. If they saw each other again. But now he had no choice.

He had been given a task. A case. He had 20 hours to find a bomb. A bomb that was placed somewhere in London. Some where public. He had spent the first hour realizing that he couldn't do it alone. He tried, he had. But he needed a second opinion. He could always figure things out easier when he was dumbing things down. He needed his blogger. He needed his John.

So with no fuss at all, he took out his spare key stuck it in the lock and rushed into 221b. He slammed the door behind him and dashed up the stairs. Both in haste to solve the case and to see his one and only friend again. He thrust open the door into his and Johns flat to find John reading a the paper. The pages covering his face and view of Sherlock. Sherlock cleared his throat to reveal his presence to the blogger. He couldn't wait to see his face when he realized who had entered the room. John lowered the newspaper slightly to glance at Sherlock. He pulled the paper back up and sighed.

Sherlock frowned.

"I wondered when you would get here." Stated John simply.

Sherlock knit his eyebrows in something he hadn't felt in a long time... confusion. "How di-"

"How did I know you were alive?" interrupted John who was still studying his paper. "Simple. When I examined you after the fall I could tell there was something on your breath. I drug maybe to slow your heart right? Maybe. But my suspicions were strengthened when I noticed the discrepancies in your autopsy. When I reexamined the site of the 'suicide ' I saw the path that your 'body' would have fallen in its trajectory to the ground and realise you couldn't possible have landed where you did without something slowing your fall and moving you closer to the building."

"Well." Said Sherlock. " I didn't think you would notice the-"

"You didn't think I was smart enough to figure out something so obvious did you?"

"Well..."

"It doesn't matter." Said John lowering his paper. "Now, are we going to find the bomb or what?"

Sherlock was flabbergasted. "How do you know about that?"

"Well I can read the paper, Sherlock." Said John turning his newspaper to Sherlock so he could see the cover.

**Mysterious Bomb in London, When and Where Will it Go off? City in Hysteria.**

"Now can we leave?" Asked John standing. Sherlock still in shock slowly nodded. And the two grabbed their coats and walked toward the door. John put his hand on the handle when Sherlock stopped him, the facts finally clicked into place.

"Molly told you didn't she." Sherlock stated more than asked.

John sighed "Yes she spilled like a third grader at recess. I just wanted to deduce something."

Sherlock smiled. "That's cute John."

And they went of to save the city.

Again

**AN: Sorry for all the updates guys, I'm just checking my spelling and grammar. Tell me if you find anymore problems**


	5. Keep Calm and Text Sherlock

**Hey guys! This chapter is based of a fake text message I found. It was so sad I had to continue it with a happy ending. I don't know who the original text belongs to, but if any of you know I will give credit. I am not taking credit for that part. So in review the first part of the text is the original I found, the rest is what I wrote in continuation. The texts are signed, but I also italicized Sherlock's part. Tell me what you think please! And if you want to see anything happen in any later chapters tell me and I'll see what I can do. Among other notes I will answer some reviews at the bottom. Lastly this chapter is a present for a friend of mine who asked me if I would update soon. Guess what? I did! And in case they don't know who they are I have one thing to say. "Moon!" *shakes fist***

I miss you, you stupid idiot. -John

_I miss you too. SH_

_Texting yourself as me won't help John: it isn't healthy. You'd think a doctor such as yourself would know that. SH_

I just wanted to pretend that you're still here, even for a few minutes. -John

* * *

_Who says it has to be only a few minutes? SH_

Mrs. Hudson? Did I accidentally text this on our old messages? You don't have to play along. This was something stupid. Forget it. -John

_This isn't Mrs. Hudson, it's not stupid. And I won't forget. SH_

Lestrade? -John

_No. SH_

Mary I sware if this is you I won't ever talk to you again. This isn't funny. -John

_This isn't Mary either. SH_

Then who are you? -John

_John, I sign all my messages. SH_

You can't be him. He's dead. Maybe Molly has a brother. A Sam Hopper maybe? -John

_Molly is obviously an only child. She's sheltered and needy. She obviously had dotting parents who had no one else to take care of. SH_

You can't be him. It's improbable. -John

_Once you rule at the impossible, however improbable must be the answer. SH_

Then it's impossible. -John

_Fine. I took a risk texting you. If you don't want to belive me than fine. Sherlock Holmes no longer exists. SH_

No! Wait. -John

Tell Me something only Sherlock and I would know. -John

_You never believed I was a fraud. SH_

I told everyone that. -John

_Mrs. Hudson's chocolate chocolate chip cookies are your favorite. SH_

They're everyone's favorite she entered them in a fair. -John

_They day we met you killed that cabbie to save me life. And when you came to my gravestone. We asked me not to be dead. SH_

_Here I am not dead. SH_

Sherlock? -John

_Let's have dinner. SH_

**To Aneleeh: Yes, that would be extremely cool! I hope your taking notes Moffet! Am glad you liked it and as long as people are reading this I will keep posting!**

**To BBCRULES: I'm glad you liked it, and thanks for reading my other story! And if I get several people who want me to continue a certain chapter I might, might, might continue. But that's not a guarantee. I think that SOME stories should be left to the imagination.**


	6. Forget-Me-Not

**Hello! Long time no see yeah! Sorry this took a while but I wanted to get it just right. Watch it it's a bit long. (It was 10 pages on word!) This is probably my longest chapter yet and I hope you like it! The rest of the AN is down below. So I'll see you there! As long as you don't leave. Please don't leave! I worked hard on this one!** **See you below! (P.S. Just a shout out to a friend of mine- apples -a.k.a. the funniest thing you've ever seen from really far away!) Kudos to anyone else who understands that.**

**Disclaimer: I got it! The rights to the show! No the coppers! You'll never take me alive. (10 min. later) I lost it. Dang you Sherlock cops!**

**BTW: John Doe is what they call patients at hospitals when they can't identify them.**

_Forget-Me-Nots: A blue flower with a yellow center. The flower symbolizes Love and Remembrance._

John had only just entered his flat when his phone rang. It was the hospital. St. Bart's to be exact.

"Dr. Watson?" Came the nervous voice of the hospital receptionist, Beth. She was a nice, if rather timid girl, and had become good friends with John since she'd started working for the hospital 6 months ago.

"What is it Beth? Did you lock yourself out of your car again? Or did you see something sad at the hospital?" Beth was always calling John whenever something happened. She treated him like an older brother. And as well as being nice and timid she was also forgetful, hence the car keys. And she was rather companionate, always crying over little things like when another of her many fish died or when she saw a dead bird out her kitchen window. It was surprising she even considered a job where patients were dying or suffering from tragic or painful accidents.

"No. Oh, now I'm thinking about where I put my keys!" Came Beth's worried voice over the line.

"Stay focused Beth." John said calmly. "Was there anything in particular you called about?" John asked while tossing his keys on the table and taking off his jacket.

"Yes. We have a patient that came in a little while ago, a John Doe." Answered Beth, suddenly trying to sound professional. "He was confused and delirious when he came in. And he has several injuries, but none life threatening."

"So, do you need me to come in and take a look at him?" John sighed, checking his watch to see how late it was.

"No actually." Beth said rather flustered. "He has a doctor. But when he came in, delirious like I said. He kept… well he kept saying…"

"Saying what Beth?" Asked John, trying to be patient although he was tired from a long day of work.

"Dr. Watson, he kept saying your name." Beth replied. John sat up straight from his spot on the couch his exhaustion soon leaving him. _What? _John tried being rational.

"Beth, John's a common name he might mean someone else."

"No, John!" Beth insisted. John flinched. Beth _never_ called him John. Although they were close she almost always referred to him formally. It was one of her little quirks. But now he knew she was either serious or frightened, possibly both. "He kept saying your name." She continued. "He kept whispering John. John Watson. He kept saying it till he passed out."

They both sat there in silence as John took it in, wondering whom this person could be. Then Beth spoke again, "They want you to come in and identify him." Then she added quickly, "If that's alright."

"It's fine." John said finally, although he didn't move from his spot on the couch. "The man didn't have anything on him to identify him? No wallet? No ID? Nothing?" He questioned.

"No. His pockets were empty. Some people think he was mugged or something. How horrible right?"

"Yeah, Beth." John said absentmindedly. "Where was he when he was found?" He asked.

"The police found him near this old factory said there'd been reports of a ruckus, shooting and stuff." John smiled for a moment. Ruckus. _Only Beth_, he thought. "They found this guy just a little ways a way from the factory." She continued. Then suddenly her professionalism faded. "You don't think anyone got hurt do you?" _Classic Beth._

"Well this man obviously did." Said John.

"But they didn't find a gun on him! Oh, well there was one a little while away in a dumpster but, wait! Dr. Watson you don't think he's dangerous do you!" She cried. John supposedly knew this man and he did know a considerable amount of dangerous people. He would hate to think that this was one of them.

"I don't know Beth. But it's fine; you said he was unconscious didn't you? You're safe. I'll be there in a little while any way. Just hang tight and I'll be over there in a minute."

John grabbed his coat and keys. And before he could hang up he had to ask Beth one last question. "Beth, just how beat up is this guy?" She paused.

"Dr. Watson. Just get here as soon as you can." Then she hung up.

* * *

John didn't get to the hospital till a little while later. He'd had trouble hailing a cab and traffic had been heavy with late night shoppers and people making their way home. When he got there Beth shot up almost immediately from her perch at her desk. Her swivel chair spun at of control as the young receptionist darted over to the army doctor. Her dirty blond ponytail swung back at forth as she bounded over to him.

"Dr. Watson!" She exclaimed. "He hasn't woken yet but he's on floor 2 room 21."

"Thanks Beth." Said John with a weak smile. They both went over to the elevator and Beth hit the button to head up to level two. As the doors opened an orderly shouted after them.

"Miss. Brooks! Shouldn't you be at your desk?"

"I was just showing Dr. Watson were the John Doe's room is." Beth replied with a sheepish look.

"We have people for that." The nurse said cuttingly. She sighed as if explaining this was just draining her. "You have a job to do Miss. Brooks. Now hop to it!" John watched as Beth visibly deflated at have to leave him to do all the investigating. She slowly walked back to her desk rather reluctantly before looking back at John with a small smile. "Now John I suppose I'll have to take you up to see him then." The orderly said rather abruptly. John silently cursed, this wasn't one of the nurses he particularly liked.

"I'm sure I can find it by myself. I know my way about the hospital." He said.

"Non-sense!" She insistent. "As much as I don't want to I can't have just anybody walking in some of the more restricted zones at night."

"But I work here." John replied as he stepped gingerly into the elevator with the nurse. Then something caught his attention just as the doors closed. "Wait. Restricted zone?"

* * *

As they reached the door John noticed a security guard standing off to the side. The nurse had informed him that since the mysterious man had been found at a shooting they were keeping close watch incase he was a 'hazardous' individual. John noticed that the security guard wasn't a security guard but in fact a policemen. He was probably there if John was able to identify him as dangerous. John nodded to the man and also realized that he wasn't an officer he was familiar with. After spending many hours at Scotland Yard with Lestrade and… and with Sherlock. He had come to know or at least recognize many a man on the force. This man must be new.

John and the nurse entered the room. The windows on the opposite wall had the blinds half shut. And there were two beds both on the far wall to his right. One was empty. The other… The other held a very, very injured man. John walked over to stand beside the bed.

His doctor instincts kicked in almost immediately. He looked the man over. He had deep bruising on the left side of his face and a gash on his right. His wrist was broken and he had several cuts on his hands, probably from a struggle. His knuckles were bruised and possibly broken as well. His lip was busted and he his chest was bound up tight indicating a broken rib. Probably several. He looked hurt, in pain. Something Beth was probably worried about apart from the heightened security.

But then John took his focus off the injuries and on to the man's appearance. It took a minute for it to truly hit him who this man was. And almost immediately he doubted. But his looks could not deny it. Though time and his injuries had hid his identity before. John knew he was not mistaken. He saw the sharp check bones, the angular face, the dark brown locks grown a little to long, the faint know-it-all smile present even in sleep. He saw Sherlock.

His Sherlock.

He didn't know how to respond, how to react. His brain was fried. But he felt the uncanny need to protect him. Sherlock had stayed hidden for a long time. Three years. He had to have had a reason. Although it had better had been a God Damn good one for keeping John in the dark. He kept his reaction hidden from the peering eyes of the nurse. He suddenly turned to her.

"Can I have a minute?" He asked so suddenly his request even startled himself. The nurse looked at him surprised by his request. "Just you know, just to figure out if I know him or not? Soak it in." The orderly looked at him rather suspiciously but complied.

John watched her leave. As soon as the door closed, but with one last glare from the nurse, he finally let his emotions take over. And it hit him like a fright train. One hand flew to his head the other to the bed behind him to steady himself. He slowly lowered himself into the bed. He was shocked.

It was Sherlock.

Sherlock was alive, if not well, but he was alive. John's emotions and his head felt so muddled. It was Him; he was alive! But Sherlock had lied to him. Had kept himself hidden and had let John think he was dead. He had let John morn. He had let him sit alone in at 221B for three days of silence. John hadn't even talked to Mrs. Hudson! He had let John live in a flat all by him self for three years. He had let John visit his gravestone almost everyday. He had let him feel his sorrow every time he had looked at his other friends because they had been Sherlock's friends too. And he had let John feel so God Damn sad for someone who wasn't even dead.

John tried to take deep breaths. He needed to calm down. He needed to clear his head. He needed to figure out what to do. He couldn't tell the nurse or the policemen that the unconscious man was Sherlock. Because he know Sherlock stayed hidden for a reason and he wouldn't give him up till he had a good long talk with Sherlock. First to sort out this mess and then to tell the man off, for letting him think he was dead.

But then John began to wonder. Sherlock had been buried. He had had a funeral. An autopsy. Hell John had seen him fall, had seen him on the ground dead. He had been the first to look at Sherlock, to check his pulse, to confirm his death. How had Sherlock done it? How had he faked his own death?

He was Sherlock and he was brilliant. He was good, but he wasn't that good. Someone must have helped him. If not with the initial death faking but at least with the paper forging and the fake funeral and fake autopsy and… Autopsy. _Molly_.

Without even thinking John wiped out his phone to text Beth.

_Beth, send Molly Hopper down here now. –JW_

He waited a few seconds before adding…

_Please. –JW_

_Why? What's happening? Did you identify the John Doe? –BB_

_I'll explain later. Just send Molly. Don't tell her why just say it's urgent. –JW_

_I could only tell her why if I know what was going on and I don't. :( -BB_

_Just send her. Please, Beth. It's really important. I NEED to talk to her. –JW_

_She's on her way up. –BB_

John sat on the bed and waited. He didn't know what he was going to say to Molly when she came up. He just needed an explanation. No it was more then that. Maybe he just needed to share this with someone. He couldn't take it alone. He needed to be with someone who knew Sherlock too, someone who would understand. But that wasn't the whole story either. He just needed someone to show him he was right. Sherlock was alive. He needed someone to confirm it, to say it, to prove that John Watson was not crazy, and that his best friend Sherlock Holmes was back.

* * *

John waited several minutes for Molly to come up. And all that time he spent watching Sherlock. He watched his steady breathing, his machines whirling around him. John kept glancing at the monitor to check if Sherlock's heart was steady. Almost suspecting it to give out at any moment, suspecting that Sherlock would leave him again. That Sherlock would be lost to death again. And that John might lose him forever. The thought frightened him.

But then the door creaked open and out spilled a confused looking Molly. And as the door closed behind her, John caught another suspicious glance from the nurse. Molly looked over at John and her expression became even more confused.

"John? I didn't know you were here. I just… the receptionist. She told me to come up here, that I had to drop all of my work and head up to the second floor." She said. John's mind for some reason stuck on the word receptionist. Although John had introduced Molly to Beth and they had all eaten lunch together on several occasions, Molly and Beth hadn't been that close or rather they hadn't been close friends. Beth was more of his friend. And he liked it that way. Beth was different. She was new, and had nothing to do with Sherlock. Everything reminded him of Sherlock but Beth had been a refreshing change. He wondered if that would change along with everything else now that Sherlock was back. "What's going on?" Asked Molly, breaking him from his thoughts. John didn't know what to say. It was easier to show her.

"You might want to explain this." John said indicating to the bed. Molly glanced down at the bed and John watched her as she slowly realized who it was. Her mouth opened a little, and her face dropped, accompanied with a tinge of worry in her eyes.

"Wha… What happened? Is he all right? Is he going to be okay?" She looked up at him worry and fear written all over her face. John's angry approach diminished. He realized that he would have to change tactics. He had expected an argument he had been ready to get information out of her no matter what. What he hadn't thought of was that she might be just as worried and upset as he was. He had been so focused on finding out what was going on and getting some answers that he hadn't thought that she might be worried to. That she probably hadn't seen Sherlock as long as he had and that she might be just as surprised and upset to find him suddenly laying broken and bloody in a hospital bed. His face softened.

"The doctor says he's alright. He'll live. They found him at an old factory, there'd been a fight there or something." He told her softly. She didn't look up from Sherlock's face as she walked over to the other side of Sherlock's bed and asked,

"Do they know?" She asked, meaning the people outside. "Does anyone know that it's him? That he's alive?"

"No." John replied looking down at Sherlock as well. "They called me in to figure out who he was." She looked up at him questionably, and he felt a little embarrassed. "He um… he mumbled my name or something when they brought him in. They called me and I came to see who he was." Molly nodded looking down at Sherlock's sleeping form once again. John looked over at her. "Molly." She didn't look up. "Molly you helped him didn't you." It was more of a statement then a question. "Molly what happened?" She didn't answer for a long time, and when she finally spoke she didn't look up.

"He knew what Jim was planning. If not all of it, he knew what he would want in the end." She paused. "He came to me for help. Swore me to secrecy and told me what he thought Jim was planning and how he planned to escape. Well," Another pause. "He didn't tell me everything at least not at first. And then when he had to leave he told me I couldn't tell anyone. Said it was important. It was a matter of life and death. He said he'd come back one day. He'd come back when it was safe and that I'd have to stay silent till then. I never thought he'd come back like this." She trailed off, a look of complete and utter sadness and worry on her face.

John looked down at his feet. He had always known Molly liked Sherlock. He had known it since he had first saw the pair together. And he had watched as Sherlock brushed her off. He had often tried to talk to Sherlock of being a little nicer with Molly. But when ever Sherlock and he had discussed anything along the lines of being polite to others or respecting a person when they fancied you, Sherlock had lead him on a long and complicated conversation and explanation that left him more confused then when he started.

The door swung open suddenly and the nurse glared at them both. "You've been in here for almost twenty minutes Dr. Watson! Do you know the man or not?" John opened his mouth to speak but Molly cut him off.

"He's my cousin, Mrs. Bern." She said quickly. "You wouldn't mind if we had another minute?" She asked hopefully. The nurse still looked suspicious. John came to Molly's rescue.

"Her cousin has been in a major accident. Surely you can let her have a moment to recover herself and spend a little time with the man." He said a little accusingly.

"Spend time with him? He's unconscious!" She growled.

Molly started to fake some tears and the nurse rolled her eyes as she closed the door again. _Did she have nothing better to do then stand guard at the door?_ John wondered. They both looked back at Sherlock and wondered what to do next.

"We should probably wait till he gets up before we do anything." John said suddenly. Molly nodded. They agreed to come back the next day whenever they could. They both had work at the hospital but they agreed to stagger there lunches and breaks so someone could be there when he wakes up, for it was likely that it might be a while before he gained consciousness. Just as they got ready to leave John heard a groan from behind him. He froze. He and Moly spun around to see Sherlock slowly waking. They ran to his bedside. John looked over at him as Molly went to press the service button for the doctor.

Sherlock groaned again and his eyes flickered open. John leaned over him protectively. "Sherlock? Can you here me Sherlock?" Another groan.

Molly looked over at Sherlock, but kept her distance not getting as close as she had when he was unconscious. John felt sorry for her as he realized she still felt awkward around him, still a confused lovesick puppy. But his focus was on Sherlock. Sherlock's eyes began to focus on him, and he looked confused.

"Where…?" He began. But the doctor rushed in with the nurse. She looked at Molly and John accusingly as the doctor rushed over to check on Sherlock.

"I see we've woken up haven't we?" He said checking Sherlock's monitors and shining a bright light in his face. "Good, good." He said absentmindedly to himself. "Now you've had quite the accident… Mr.?" He turned to John on the last one to hopefully finish the sentence.

"Hopper!" Molly cut in, but not without blushing slightly, which only John, who was standing close to her, could see. "He's my cousin." She added.

"Alright Mr. Hopper." Continued the doctor. "You've had a sever head injury so I'm sorry but I have to run several tests before you talk to your cousin or rest if that's alright?" Sherlock looked confusedly at Molly and John before nodding to the doctor. John thought it was weird for Sherlock to be so silent. Not to answer with a snarky remark or give some quick deduction. He hoped he was all right.

"Okay Mr. Hopper can you remember the accident? Do you remember what happened?" The doctor said as he picked up a clipboard and pen. Sherlock sat there several seconds frowning before he slowly shook his head no. The nurse, Mrs. Bern, started to usher the others to out of the room with some excuses of it not being visiting hours or something like that. But Molly and John resisted wanting to spend more time with Sherlock after having been separated from him for three years. The doctor continued to ask questions seemingly oblivious to the slight struggle in the back. "Do you know where you are?" Sherlock looked confused again before croaking out,

"The hospital?" The Doctor nodded with a smile and proceeded to ask another stupid question. Meanwhile the struggle continued in the back.

"Oh come on we're his friends, please he's only just woken up can't we stay a little longer?" John asked his panic rising at the thought of letting Sherlock stay here all night with out talking to him. And with the possibility of him escaping again before they were properly reunited.

"He's my cousin! John here is his flat mate can't we just stay?" Begged Molly. "He knows us wouldn't it be-" she started to stay before Sherlock cut her off.

"No you aren't." he said simply. The struggle froze and everyone turned to look at him.

"She isn't what Mr. Hopper?" The doctor asked.

"She isn't my cousin." He responded as John glared at him, why was he giving them away? Sherlock was great at pretending to be someone else especially when on a case. What was he doing? Sherlock continued, "And he isn't my flat mate." John's heart stopped. "At least a don't think he is." Sherlock added slowly. Sherlock raised his hand to his head, only to stop midway when he saw the cast on his wrist, and the bruising on his knuckles. He looked curiously at it.

"What do you mean you don't think so?" John asked his heart sinking and his anger rising. "Are you not sure? How could you not be sure?" He yelled. Sherlock looked at him with little to no emotion.

"I don't know you. I don't know either of you." Then he looked down perplexed by something. "I don't think I know who I am either."

That's when John completely lost it.

* * *

John breathed in the London night air. It was almost midnight, and John was sitting on the roof of St. Bart's. He sat on the ledge his legs dangling dangerously over the side. He looked over to his left. The wall adjacent to him was where it happened, where all this began three years ago. If he looked closely he could still see the dried blood from where Moriarty had been found. He shivered looking at it. Memories of Sherlock's fall and the bomb that had been strapped to John's chest rushed to his mind. All caused by him, by Moriarty. He looked back out at the city moving beneath him. And he gave out a long troubled sigh. He didn't realize there was someone else on the roof till she sat down next to him.

Beth looked over at him from the corner of her eye. Then she passed him a coffee and they sat for a minute in silence. "Nice night aint it?" She asked turning to look at him as she tugged her coat a little tighter around her. This was so unlike Beth to sit dangerously on the edge of a building like it was nothing. Or for her to be comforting him, usually it was the other way round. They sat for another minute in silence. Just letting the city below speak for them. "At least he's alive, John." And there she was again saying his name. "The Doctors say that amnesia is common with the level of damage that his head received." Amnesia. That is what the doctor had diagnosed. Sherlock had a sever case of it. He wasn't able to remember anything, not his life, his name, his family, his past, only John's name. Granted he couldn't remember his face or his significance. But Sherlock could remember his name.

John was embraced by his melt down earlier, although he couldn't remember half of it. Molly later told him that it had taken the policeman, two security guards, calming words from both Beth and Molly, and a hug from the for mentioned receptionist to get him out of Sherlock's hospital room. And it had taken even longer to get him to stop his silent tears.

In the end they had told the doctor who Sherlock was. But they had only told a select amount of people. It was on a strict need to know bases. Thankfully that rude nurse didn't need to know.

Now all they had was Sherlock's planed recovery both physically and mentally. The doctor had said it was only a matter of time for Sherlock to start to remember, but that was time John wasn't prepared to wait for.

Beth turned back to look at the city but continued to speak to him. "He's lucky to have friends like you and Molly. He was gone for three years and you were still so ready to protect him." John knew that was how it had always been. The first day he met Sherlock he had killed for him. Now Sherlock couldn't even remember him. "You'll get through this Dr. Watson you're the toughest guy I know! You, Molly and that inspector, what was his name?"

"Lestrade."

"You, Molly and Inspector Lestrade you're a team. You all have pulled through before why not now?" She asked. _Because we don't have Sherlock_, John thought.

Beth looked at him again. "I'm here for you if you need me." He looked up at her determined face. "Your friend will get better I promise." They both knew she couldn't really know if Sherlock would ever get better and if he got worse there would be nothing she could do to stop it. But it felt good to hear her so positive and determined. It almost convinced John that it would get better. "We'll do this together, right?" John looked at her for a minute before saying,

"Right."

Beth smiled, and they both looked out over London ready for whatever came next. They would stand together no matter what this city and memory wiped Sherlock Holmes could bring. Because he was worth it.

**Hello again! Did you like? What did you think? Kind of different from my other chapters isn't. Want to hear something cool? When I original thought this story up... Beth wasn't in it. She just kind of came out of no where! When I started typing I realized I had to have someone call John about the 'mysterious man' so I needed to come up with a throw away character. Then I started writing and her background just came out. The whole fish thing her being friends with John it was just so weird. I never thought she would be as involved with the story as she ended up being. I really liked how she turned out so please tell me what you think. I might even put her in another one shot. (If you guys like her of course.) So tell me your thoughts I want to know what you guys think about this chapter. Like I told you it took me a while to write this and I know that there is a bunch of you are reading, unless my story stats are lying which I hope they aren't, but anyway please review and have a fantastic night/day/morning/afternoon. What ever just thanks for reading and goodbye.**


	7. Spilled Milk

**AN: Sorry for the long wait guys, but the new chapter is here! To make up for my lateness this one is funny, or so I hope. I know the chapter doesn't make sense at first, but that's kind of the point. Hope you like it!**

**Disclaimer: Do you think someone such as myself could own something as awesome as this? I mean the chapter is about milk!**

John yawned as he walked into the kitchen and he scratched his head as he opened the fridge. He looked around for the item of his search but not finding it he began to look more feverishly.

"No, no, no, no." He mumbled under his breath. "Mrs. Hudson!" He called, slamming the fridge door and running out of his kitchen, through his living room and front door. "Mrs. Hudson!" He yelled practically shrieking in anxiety. "Mrs. Hudson!" Soon Mrs. Hudson appeared in the hall, looked worried and rather disheveled.

"What? What is it dear?" She called from the floor below. John leaned over the railing to look down at her.

"Oh, Mrs. Hudson thank god. I'm out of eggs do have any?" he pleaded. Mrs. Hudson stood there confused for a moment before suddenly realizing the implications of their lack of eggs.

"Oh hold on dear let me check." She ran back into her room at a pace rather quick for a woman of her age, especial with her hip. But despite the woman's fascinating speed, John Watson was still impatient. He was practically pacing as he waited for her to return. Fearing what would happen if they were in fact out of eggs. Before long he could hear Mrs. Hudson's voice echoing down the halls. "Here, it's here don't worry dear I've still got a few left." John sighed in relief. "I've got half a carton right here love.

"Oh thank god," said John in relief. And he gave out a small laugh at how worried they'd been over nothing. Mrs. Hudson gave a small relieved laugh too.

"Crisis averted," they smiled interchanging with weak laughs. "Oh dear why don't I fix us some eggs and toast and you can make us a spot of tea how does that sound?"

"Fine Mrs. Hudson, just fine," smiled John, "I'm glad we got that over with."

"Yes dear seems we have nothing to worry about."

_Five minutes later._

"MRS. HUDSON!?" Called John as he ran, for the second time that day, out into the hall.

"Yes dear!" said Mrs. Hudson as she burst into the hall below. She was still holding a spatula as she looked up at John worriedly. "What's wrong now?"

"Mrs. Hudson I'm out of milk, do you have any?" he looked down at her hopefully. He watched as her worried expression turned into that of distress and a hint of fear. John froze in pure shock; _this would not end well_.

"Oh no dear. I'm so sorry, I used the last of it yesterday when I was making milk tarts." She said near tears.

"Why would…." Said John flustered at the situation he'd found himself in. "Why on earth would you use the last of the milk on milk tarts?" he fumed, "Couldn't you have made another type of tart that DIDN'T require milk?"

"I'm sorry It was a new recipe I got from Beth the other day, and I just…" she began, but was stopped by several tears and the beginnings of a runny nose. John's anger subsided.

"It's all right Mrs. Hudson," He said as he climbed down the stairs to console her, "I'm sorry I shouted." He patted her on the back and began to rub soothing circles. "I'll just have to… I'll just have to go out to the shops and get us some milk."

"Oh no!" cried Mrs. Hudson. "Don't go out there, we'll just have to have tea with out the milk." Their eyes met. They both knew that this was impossible. Tea without milk? Preposterous.

John grabbed his coat of the hook and started to prepare for his journey into the outside. This included a hat and tall collar to disguise him. I futile attempt of course but still worth a shot.

"No John!" Shouted Mrs. Hudson trying desperately to stop him. "I'll just… I'll get little Jeffrey next store to run by the shops for us when he goes out for his aunt!"

"No Mrs. Hudson you know what happed last time we got some one else to fetch something for us." Sighed John as he began to undo the many locks on their door.

"And again I'm very sorry about that jumper of yours."

"It wasn't you fault Mrs. Hudson." He turned to look menacingly at the front door, "It was HIM."

"Oh just be careful love!" She pleaded.

"I will Mrs. Hudson." And when John could put it off no longer he put a hand on the doorknob. He was just one turn away from the outside. For one last time he turned back to look bravely at Mrs. Hudson before cautiously slipping out the door. Mrs. Hudson watched him go and said a quick prayer under her breath. Hoping to goodness there wouldn't be another incident this time.

* * *

John took a long and complicated route to the grocery store. He did not want to be followed. He looked anxiously around him looking, searching, and hoping that HE wasn't there. The troublesome man who had made his life a living hell since Sherlock had died.

John walked the busy streets desperate to get lost in the crowds before slipping into another street. He watched the streets to make sure no cars were following him either. By the time he made it to the store he had even stood outside for 10 minutes just to make sure the coast was clear. Once inside he made a mad dash to the dairy section and grabbed what ever was available not caring if it was skim or 2%. Then he hid in one of the aisle. He carefully examined the cashiers to make sure it wasn't HIM, even though HE was a master of disguise. Once he was satisfied he chose the shortest line and but was still was impatient as an old lady took 5 freakin minutes to by cat food! When he was finally out of the store, and possible paid to much in his haste, he was upset to discover that it had begun to rain. _Stupid London weather, stupid rain! _I John stood wondering if he could risk a cab. He had made it so far, why not? He looked cautiously around before he started to hail a cab.

When a cab pulled over he checked it carefully for any other passengers and to insure the driver was not HIM. Once he was satisfied he slid into a seat in the back and gave the cabbie his address.

"You're a jumpy little fellow aren't you?" Asked the cab driver as he gave John a glance through the rearview mirror. John scowled as they started to make there way towards 221B.

_We're almost there! I can make! No terrifying incidents today, no sir_, thought John as they came closer to the flat. _Just one more street to go_. And just as they were about to turn on to the next street.

"Put, put, put, put, put, drm, hok, meruffff"

"Uhmmmmm…. What was that?" asked John. They began to pull over.

"It's the engine." Muttered the cabbie. "Look this is a no park zone, so I got to wait in the car for this to be legit. You're going to have to check the engine." John's eyes widened.

"You can't be serious."

"Do you want to get home or not?"

"I think I'll walk."

"No, please!" Pleaded the cabbie. John sighed.

"Fine." He opened the cab door and grabbed his milk, just in case HE showed up and John would to make a run for it. He pulled his collar up tighter against the cold rain, and peering eyes. He looked around anxciously, as he heard the hood pop open. He looked around again before opening the hood and turning his attention to the task at hand.

"JOHN!" shouted a voice from with in the hood.

"AHHHHHHHHHH!" screamed John as he flew back in surprise, he fell over hitting his but hard on the asphalt. He's milk burst against the sidewalk soaking John and several pedestrians. John watched as his milk mixed in with the pouring rain before looking back up at the person who had startled him so. He watched as a man climbed out of the hood, laughing manically. "I got you this time!" cheered non other then Sherlock Holmes. "What's the matter John? No use crying over spilled milk!" He said smiling.

"I'm not crying, it's rain you moron." Sneered John as he attempted to stand. But he slipped on the milk and ended tumbling back down to the ground. This only made Sherlock laugh harder as he turned and ran away down the street looking like a complete mad man. John, finally managing to stand, stood staring after him angrily. "HOLMES!" Shouted John shaking his fist vigorously after the strange man. He stood there several minutes alone in the rain while people gave him and his spilled milk odd looks. _Not again_, thought John.

* * *

For you see dear reader, Sherlock had already told John he was alive, and in quite an entertaining way too. Sherlock had scared John so badly the first time, and Sherlock had found it so funny that he had made it into a sport for himself. He hid himself in the most bazar of places to scare John and his friends. Of course he wasn't welcome back at Backer Street now, but Sherlock didn't mind. All was fair in prank n' war.

**AN: How did you like my twist? Yes HE is Sherlock and Sherlock is insane. Oh guys don't forget I take requests. Even if it's a lengthy detailed one or just a word or a sentence fragment I will take the challenge! So review please. Tell me what you think and give me some ideas!**


	8. Taking Matters Into Their Own Hands

**(AN: Here is a bonus chapter for my lateness! Next chapter coming soon!)**

There came a time when a decision would have to be made. For the Fandom had all agreed that Sherlock season three was taking to long and Tardis-Blue-Jay was taking to F-ing long to update. **(AN- Hey! I was busy and there's no need to get mouthy.) **We can understand you were busy during finals, but it's JULY! Now shut up, I'm telling a story! Anyway, they decided they would have to take matters into their own hands. So plans were made, resources were put together, great minds convened, and the fandom worked together for one mighty cause! **(AN- Curing Cancer?) **No you idiot! I mean that's a worthy cause and all but- will you just let me tell the F-ing story? As I was saying, and thus a device was created.

A device that would enable the user to travel between universes for a short period of time. **(AN- Like the TARDIS?) **Are you serious? The TARDIS travels through time and space it can't hop universes at will! That was so ridiculous a statement I will now ignore you! Anyway this device took the fandom a lot of time to make. **(AN- But not nearly as long as Sherlock season three.) **Okay I can agree with you there. **(AN- I thought you were ignoring me.) **As the devise was being built one fan was chosen above the rest. A fan that knew every detail of the show, a fan who had read the books, who was specially trained in speed, agility, and combat. A fan who was a master of disguise, a wordsmith of lies and would never break under torcher. **(AN- A fan who was picked out of a hat.) **It was still ceremonial and a good choice. **(AN- What no volunteers as tribute?) **There were several but that's beyond the point! Once the device and tribute, I mean Chosen Fan where ready they were sent to right one terrible wrong… **(AN- In a universe far far away!) **Grrrrrr! **(AN- I'll be quite now.) **Thank you. And this is what became of that young fan and the precious device.

_John Watson stood by a grave stone marked with the name of his closest friend, Sherlock Holmes. And as he stared at the black gravestone he told Sherlock one last thing, "Um. Hm. You… you told me once that you weren't a hero. Um. There were times that I didn't even think you were human. But let me tell you this, you were the best man and the most human… human being that I have ever known, and no one will ever convince me that you told me a lie. And so… there. I was so alone and I owe you so much. Please, there's just one more thing. One more thing. One more miracle, Sherlock, for me. Don't be… dead. Would you do that, just for me? Just stop this…" And with that he stared at the gravestone for one final time before turning to head back to the cab, Mrs. Hudson, and to a world without Sherlock Holmes._

_But suddenly off to his right he heard aloud POPing noise, and the crack of a spin. He turned to see a young blond girl stretching her back of to his right. She wore jeans and a T-shirt that read 'I AM SHERLOCKED' across the front. She held a small black device in her hand and as she looked up from stretching she spotted him. She smiled as she straightened herself. "Wish granted."_

_"What?" Asked John confused. He could of sworn she wasn't there a second ago._

_"Look!" She shouted, "Behind you!" John turned quickly to see the old stone covered walkway behind him. And half hidden between one of the pillars he spotted none other then Sherlock Holmes._

_"What! But how are…?" He started then turned to the girl, "But how did…" But the girl was gone her mission complete, and the fandom satisfied. _**(AN- But everything changed when the firenation attacked!) **Oh for the love of… Your not even telling the story I am. **(AN- The fact that this is an ****_author's_**** note begs to differ.) **There, THE END. Are you happy? You spliced this entire story with your stupid side comments. **(AN- Hey I made your story longer, and you're the one who brook the forth wall by talking back to me… Wait a minute… I'm the author… so if I'm not telling the story… Who are you?) **… Um…. You'll never take me alive! *Disappears through portal*

**(AN: Um… well that was… interesting? Sorry I've been gone guys I was busy for a while there but then I just became lazy, sorry 'bout that. I'll try to update more and hopefully I can get the next chapter up with in the next day or two. It was fan requested by a guest so I hope you guys will be excited for it. I know I am! The idea is very… interesting. I liked it so I hope you guys will too. I just really hope I did the idea justice and that the guest who suggested it is happy with it. Wow guess I'll be hoping for a lot lately. Anyways R&R! I love to hear what you guys got to say and getting your feedback. Even short reviews brighten my day and help with the sped of the updates. I will stop ranting now! Byez!)**


	9. Just an AN, sorry!

**AN: Sorry guys this is just an author's note. I know I said the next chapter would be up in a day or two, but sadly I won't be able to update till next Friday or later. I was planing to update the other day but I had to go babysit my cousin when he got sick. Now I'm on vacation and I left all my story files at home! So I guess we'll all have to wait till next Friday. I just wanted to give you all the heads up! Okay I'll stop talking now. Byez!**

**PS: Heres a quote for your troubles**

**"I may fight on the said of the angles, but that doesn't mean I am one."**


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